


As the Deer

by pfieffer



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Slavery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9195383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfieffer/pseuds/pfieffer
Summary: Athelstan was just trying to get to Seminary school, when a group who were up to less than legal activities robs the church he works at, seminary is forgotten, and he realizes something he wished he didn't. Athelstan knows more than he lets on, mainly because he cannot believe that a man named Ragnar exists yet again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own vikings, or any of the characters, just this little story. I am Athelstan trash, and I belong in a dump tbh. 
> 
> This is not beta read--- lol none of my stuff is, hell I don't even proof read it so sorry for typos.

It was a normal Sunday morning. Everything was normal. Which is all to say it didn’t stay very normal for very long. The service was their most popular one, 9:45 AM. It worked well with time tables for so many. It ended just in time for lunch, and began right after a good breakfast. Children were dropped off for Sunday school as parents went to church. However, that was for the less avid church goers. For those who were truly dedicated there were Sunday School classes at 8:30 and another regular church service. And then there was one more after. But the only people who tended to go to more than one service were parents of children who wanted to see Big Church as it was fondly called, and couldn’t because of their Sunday school class, and those that worked at the church.

At 8:30 AM Athelstan was a Sunday school teacher, for a group of rowdy 9 year olds. He loved them though, and if their insistence that he move with them to the next year was anything to go by, they loved him to. He taught them songs on how to remember Jesus’ 12 disciples, and all the books of the bible.  All the girls thought he was dreamy, and the boys liked how he told more of the gory stories in the Bible. Athelstan made sure all the stories he told in his lesson plan were appropriate but he also made sure they would keep the interest of the kids, and make them want to learn. When they asked questions he knew he did his job.

9:45 though came around and Athelstan became the choir director who lead the hymns at church. He was told he was gifted. He would blush and say he used his talent for the person who blessed him with it. In short Athelstan only sang at church and to lift his God’s name up.

So today at this normal 9:45 service, no one saw the new faces in the audience. And even if they had been noticed no one was about to shoe them out. For that would be stupid, if people wanted to come, whether they soaked in the Word or not, then they could. The service went on, songs were sung by the choir, the Lord’s Prayer was said.

Then the offering came. This was when people gave their money for the church. Not everyone gave, some gave more than others. Some had a portion of their paycheck they would give only once a month. Children pulled pennies out of their pockets, and purses that held nothing really but maybe the pamphlet they were coloring in so as not to make too much noise. The offering wasn’t given in silence though. No, there was always a song.

Today that song was Amazing Grace, a more modern version because Athelstan insisted if he was to sing it as a solo. And so sing he did, his voice carried the first verse, as he looked out at those who gave. Some people looked bored, some though were very intrigued with the song, some mouthed the words. It was normal, and Athelstan sang, “Amazing grace how sweet the sound, that save a wretch like me, I once was lost, but now am found was blind---“

There was a long pause. Athelstan spotted someone in the congregation. Someone he thought he recognized. Someone who certainly was new, but then how could he recognize them. It made no sense. But he looked at this blond man, with these piercing blue eyes, and the man looked back. Athelstan was speechless, which was not good since his pause in the song was going longer than he expected. Longer than it should. The man seemed to stare through him, and it wasn’t that Athelstan was unnerved, because he most certainly was, but he also felt that stare was so utterly familiar. He looked away when this stranger leaned forward, and continued singing.

The song continued and he noticed that when he looked at the man from time to time, never as long as the first, there were certain parts that made him sing angry. Athelstan didn’t dwell on it. He reached the last verse, and suddenly there was a yell.

His immediate action was to freeze, but he pulled the pastor behind the alter, and put a finger to his lips. People screamed, and he was certain there was a gun shot, or more. He closed his eyes, and whispered a prayer, he kept the pastor down though. He could not risk anything, he did not want this man dead, he was like a father to him after all. Eventually the pastor asked, “What is going on.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know. But we need to stay here. We have better chances---“ he whispered.

They both heard footsteps, Athelstan shut his eyes. He wished he hadn’t because when he opened them again Pastor Cuthbert wasn’t next to him anymore. He held his breath now, as he heard voices, Pastor Cuthbert’s begging, and whispered prayers, then another language from quite a few people. Another language that he knew. Danish. He thanked his missionary work during school, and his study of languages during university or he would have not understood a word.

He stood up, “Don’t hurt him,” he spoke.

The man turned to him. Athelstan knew the face. It was the face of the man who was more than just intrigued with him during the song he had been singing previous. The man’s face up close had such a ferocity to it, a wildness in the eyes. Athelstan couldn’t tell if he was angry or made.

Pastor Cuthbert momentarily forgotten, “How do you knew Danish?” he asked, eyes narrowed slightly.

Athelstan looked at Pastor Cuthbort who gave him a nod, “Don’t hurt him,” he repeated again.

“Tell me how you know our language.”

“I did mission work--- I studied it and others at school,” Athelstan finally stuttered out. “Please don’t hurt him.”

The man smirked, and there was a gunshot, but the man before him wasn’t the one that had the gun that shot Pastor Cuthbert.

“No!” Athelstan shouted, going to his knees beside the man. The last positive rolemodel dead. Everyone he knew was now dead. Everyone had influence in his life that is. It was then he looked around, there was carnage all around the sanctuary. Gone was the scared man, his eyes narrowed, and his lips turned into a frown. It was a look he rarely wore. “You won’t get away with this.”

The man tilted his head, “We shall see.”

Athelstan saw a gun in the man’s hand now. He stood up, his fists clenched, the man noticed, and smirked. Not like Athelstan could do anything. The most self defense he knew couldn’t possibly work on a man that was about twice his size.

The doors in the back of the sanctuary opened and another man no less big than the man currently in front of him, any of the men really walked through. “Brother we must go, the police are coming. Kill this priest and get on with it.”

The man didn’t even look at his brother. His eyes stayed on Athelstan. “No. He will come with us.”

Athelstan was about to protest, but the man put a finger to his lips to tell him to be quiet, and turned to his brother. His brother let out a shout and yelled. The man turned back to Athelstan, but Athelstan didn’t remember much after. The man hit his head with the back of his gun.

+++

When Athelstan awoke he was disoriented and was subtly aware of a rocking. He no longer had his robes on, he noted that they were actually folded on a chair to his left. But he also wasn’t undressed. He sat up, and the rocking became much more evident but he had a feeling that was partially due to the bump he was certain was on his head. He looked around and he was clearly in a small room. It was too nice to be a cell though.

The door open and Athelstan jumped, “The priest is awake,” he laughed, mirth in his blue eyes. “You startle like a mouse.” He smirked, at what Athelstan wasn’t sure of, probably some private that joke, that clearly Athelstan was not aware of.

“I’m not a priest,” he stated with a bit more ferocity than he intended. “Where am I?”

The man seemed to ignore his questions, which only worked to frustrate Athelstan, “You have bite like a mouse too, Athelstan.”

Athelstan’s eyes narrowed, “How do you know my name?”

The man through his wallet at him. Well at least it made sense. He did have ID… and a now missing bank card. His stomach dropped. His savings. His money. His life. It wasn’t even that much, because he gave a portion to the church, even if--- if Pastor Cuthbert said his time at the church would work as a tithe, for the Lord did not wish to take from the poor.

“Where am I?”

“My name is Ragnar.”

Athelstan huffed, and asked one more time. Ragnar--- that name, it was familiar even though Athelstan knew in sound mind that it should not, was holding back a laugh. “Where am I?”

“On a boat, in my quarters. We are heading to my home.”

“And the others---?” Athelstan trailed off.

“My friends are all here. It is a big boat.”

Athelstan was almost at a loss for words. He wanted to shrink into non-existence at the moment. This was surreal. He was being kidnapped. He was being kidnapped, and they had magically found the perfect victim. A man with no one to look for him, only a few 9 year olds who might miss his songs and drawings in their Sunday School class room. His heart sank, “Why me?” he asked more to himself than the man who stood in the room, who seemed to take up the whole room, save for the small space that Athelstan had.

That small space was invaded though, for Ragnar was now in his face. It was as if the man knew completely of his presence, and totally ignored how much space he took up. It was as if social norms were lost on the man, like he was from another time.

“I do not know--- yet.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athelstan realizes he is not alone, and is asked to pretend he doesn't know Danish for his own safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the Deer is an actual song, if you want to look up the lyrics go ahead, and you will totally understand why Athelstan hopes Ragnar never asks for him to sing the song *wink wink*
> 
> So this chapter is where we diverge from the show a bit, because while this is kinda a retelling, its not the same. So yes there is some Athelstan/Thyri, but that's so what happens can be a bit more realistic later on. Athelnar is endgame I promise.

Athelstan soon found that he was not the only captive taken. But much to his displeasure, he was the only adult. Ragnar had corralled him eventually with the children, a set of red headed girl twins who were 10, a boy who was in his 9 year old Sunday school class, and another smaller boy who he was pretty sure was the brother of a different student in his class. His heart broke for these kids, who may never see their families again. Broken homes, and lives caused by these men. The littlest of the group immediately recognized him and sidled up to him, he just wrapped his arm around the boy, and hoped he would eat some of the food.

They were always being watched, but Athelstan paid them no mind. He was focused on the children, he looked at them as they looked at there food. “Who will say grace? Thomas why don’t you?”

Thomas the boy from his class crossed his arms, “No, it could be poisoned, I’m not blessing poisoned food.”

Athelstan huffed, “It is still food and we should be grateful for it.”

“Mr. Stan,” one of the twins asked, the nickname given to him early on in his career at teaching Sunday School when the kids could not pronounce his name. It seemed to have spread. “Why are you hurt?”

His brows furrowed, “Hurt?” he asked, his hand going to his head, and he felt a rather large bump. It must be noticeable.

“You have blood on your face.” The girl added.

Oh yes it would be noticeable then. He sighed, “I’m fine, just a little bump on the head.” He looked to Thomas, “Why don’t you pray for us to not be hurt if you wont bless the food.”

Thomas glared at him, it was his usual look, he questioned Athelstan more than anyone in the class. “Why do I have to pray at all?”

“Because a man of Christ should be the first to offer up a prayer, and because I asked you to.”

The second seemed to get Thomas because while he might question Athelstan, he was as obedient as a nine year old could be, especially when teachers were involved, and technically Athelstan was a teacher.

“Lets pray,” Thomas began, and the group bowed there heads. Thomas prayed for Athelstan to heal quickly, for them to not get hurt, and then as quiet as his voice could go blessed the food.

When the prayer was over, Athelstan was smiling at him. Thomas huffed, and shoved some of the food in his mouth. The little boy who was as close to Athelstan as he could get short of sitting in the man’s lap, looked at him, “Will you teach us something?”

“After the meal perhaps.” He responded, noticing the looks of the other children. They had brightened at the prospect of Athelstan teaching them something. And if Athelstan could make them a little less sad, a little less hurt by their situation, then he certainly would try.

The meal was finished. Athelstan noticed that Ragnar was looking at them, but making no moves to separate them. “Alright, since Thomas was such a stickler about prayer earlier, let’s have a lesson about it.”

Thomas glared at him again, “That’s not fair.”

Athelstan shrugged, he could deal with children’s sass, even if what they did say took him by surprise sometimes. “Sure it is. Does anyone here no a prayer?”

The other twin that hadn’t spoken earlier raised her hand, “The Lord’s Prayer.”

Athelstan nodded, “Very good—“

“Stacy, and my sister is Alice.”

“Alright, so the Lord’s prayer, who here knows it?” All the hands went up, “Who here can recite it?” All the hands went down and Athelstan laughed. That laugh caught the attention of Ragnar, but Athelstan didn’t know that. “Alright alright, if I start saying it, will you all join in?”

Thomas looked like he was giving it a good think, but Stacy and Alice both nodded, and the boy who continued to hug his side squeezed him tighter. Three of the four was enough for him. “Our Father,” he began, and soon all four, even Thomas recited the prayer all the way through.

“Does any of that stick out to you?”

Four heads shook. Athelstan sighed. “Nothing in that prayer can be applied to our situation?” Their heads didn’t shake, but they were still confused. The kids were clearly trying to create an answer. “What is a trespass?”

Alice spoke, “A sin?” she asked. “Because we ask for forgiveness from our sins, and those that sin against us?”

Athelstan nodded, “Yes, and why does God want us to ask forgiveness for those who sin against us?”

Thomas looked thoroughly displeased, “Its stupid. I don’t want to forgive these people.”

At least Thomas got the point Athelstan was trying the make. The kid was smart, there was no denying it, and Athelstan had a feeling he would go in his faith. But that was before there current situation. He had no idea what would happen now.

“We do not have to forgive immediately. But we should, you should. Because God calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves. It was one of Jesus’ two commandments. And who are our neighbors?”

The boy, now Athelstan remembering his name, Henry spoke, “Our friends.”

Athelstan nodded, “And?”

“Our elders?” Stacy said. Athelstan nodded again.

“Our actual neigbors like Mrs. Joyce who lives across the hall, she smells and has three cats.” Alice added.

Athelstan looked at her, “I don’t think you should be insulting your neighbor in a talk about loving them.”

Alice blushed, Thomas laughed, and she then said, “Sorry Mr. Stan.”

Athelstan shook his head, “It’s quite alright. Now who else is our neighbor?” After a moment of silence, and Athelstan clearly not getting an answer, “Those who are different from us, those who are our enemies, or not Christian,” he filled in.

“Why?” Thomas asked.

Athelstan loved Thomas, as he loved all his students, but he always needed a little extra strength, that at the moment he was not sure he had, to get through Thomas’ endless berating. “Because, its nice. God calls us to do it, but no one deserves to be unfairly hated.”

“I hate these people for taking us, that’s fair.” Thomas countered.

Athelstan leaned forward, “And what does the Lord’s prayer call us to do to those who trespass against us?”

Thomas glared at him, He knew the answer. Athelstan stared right back, and eyebrow expertly raised. Henry, was giggling into his waste where his head was buried. “Forgive them,” Thomas finally said through his teeth.

“So what have we learned today Stacy?”

The girl thought for a moment, “That we should show kindness to the people who took us, and forgive them eventually for taking us, because the Lord calls us to.”

Athelstan smiled and nodded, as the lesson concluded. He just hoped it was a lesson that would stick. He learned it long ago, but these were still children, there young minds so impressionable. And he had no idea what lay before them.

“Song.” Henry said looking up at him again.

Athelstan sighed, and bit his lip, “I’m—“ he looked at Ragnar who was still watching them, no one else was in the room now, but Ragnar was leaning against the door frame to the entrance of the room just looking at him. Staring with those fiery eyes that unnerved Athelstan. He looked back at the group. “I don’t know.”

“Please Mr. Stan, you sing so pretty in church.” Alice chimed in. She was soon joined by her sister, who added another Please.

Athelstan was shaking his head, “I don’t know.”

“Just one song.” Henry asked again, clutching onto him for dear life it seemed.

Athelstan sighed, and nodded, closing his eyes. He had no idea what song to sing. He didn’t want it to be something loud. And he didn’t think that a song about the twelve disciples was really appropriate. “Alright, one song,” he said finally coming up with a song. Again he saw their faces brighten up. He closed his eyes and began the song, that was based off a Psalm, “As the deer, panted forth the waters of my soul longing after thee, you alone are my heart’s desire and I long to worship thee, you alone are my strength my shield, and you alone make my spirit yield, you alone are my heart’s desire and I long to worship thee.”

He didn’t sing the whole song, but he was finished and when he looked back to look for Ragnar, the man was now directly behind which made him jump, causing Henry to hit his head on the table. Athelstan sighed, it was almost like the man planned this, and for some reason Athelstan could not put it past him. “Can I help you?” he asked in Danish.

Ragnar smiled, “The children need to go to bed. You will too—eventually, but I have a request first.”

Athelstan could just feel his stomach drop. He also wondered how long he had been asleep, but decided now was not the time to ask the question, “What is that?”

“You must act like you do not understand us when we talk, unless it is just you and I. My brother is the only one who may know you know our language, but I intend to keep it a secret for now.”

“Why?”

“You will understand Mouse.”

Athelstan huffed, and the children had two looks on their face, intrigue, and scared. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It will. Let us hope you can act as well as you can sing.”

Athelstan turned bright red, and something told him, he should never sing the whole song for this man, or he may just have a permanent blush. It was an interesting thought to have, and he quickly shook it away.

The smirk on Ragnar’s face, now just made Athelstan blush even more. The man almost looked proud of himself, he probably was, “Now, tell the children they are going to go to bed.”

Athelstan looked at Ragnar for a half second longer than he needed to, and turned to the kids, “Apparently its late, and as barbaric as these people may seem, they think you all still need a normal bed time.”

The kids grumbled a bit, “They don’t want to go to bed,” Athelstan turned to Ragnar, “Are you taking them?”

He shook his head, and more men came in. Ragnar stood up straight, and began speaking to the men who came in. He pointed to a man who had an eyepatch, “Take the children to their room, they are going to bed.”

Ragnar looked at Athelstan and pushed on the little boy hoping to get him up, “I think” Athelstan spoke in English, hoping the kids would play along, “He wants you to go with that man, and go to bed. Also I’ve been asked to pretend I do not know there language, okay.”

The children nodded, when the gravity of the situation hit, even the innocence of children could be lost. The twins were the first up, and then Thomas. After Athelstan pried Henry off, who had a few tears in his eyes, he too stood to leave.

Then it was Athelstan and these strange men, who he knew very well could kill him. Ragnar’s brother was here, and so were other’s he did not know. He gulped, and wished the floor would swallow him up.

“Why are we keeping the priest here?” one of the men shouted.

“Because I want him here, its too early even for him to sleep.”

Athelstan breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were going to let him leave when they thought it was late enough. That was his hope. He found he had very little hope at the moment, and he counted on the fact that they would let him leave.

++++

The trip continued in much of the same fashion. And then they reached their destination. Athelstan realized they were on some kind of fishing boat and yacht mixture of a vessel, as they were escorted off. The children looked miserable, they all had their hands bound behind their backs, and the children had been tied together. Athelstan had a rope placed around his neck, and was lead around like a dog by Ragnar.

The money, and other things they stole from the church were being loaded on a truck, and soon he and the children were too. He felt as though he was going to throw up. This was something straight out of the history books, that or it was just human trafficking, it was probably a bit of both, if he was honest. But he did not want to think of it that way. He did not want to think he and these four children were going to be used as slaves in some sort, especially not the sort that first popped up into his mind.

They traveled for who knows how long. Athelstan prayed for them, and sang As the Deer again, in an attempt to calm them. He wasn’t sure it worked.

Soon they were corralled off the truck, along with the money and treasures from the church. Athelstan noticed that the grip that Ragnar had around his rope tightened. They seemed to be at a hotel of some sort. But Athelstan had no idea. They were placed in a boardroom with the money and the other valuable items. The kids had huddled around him, even Thomas.

The men from the journey were in the room, including Ragnar, and then more men, and women came in. The only people that seemed to sit, looked to be a family. They had a conversation and Athelstan caught the name Haraldson, but he hardly paid attention, for the girl he assumed to be Haraldson’s daughter had his full attention, his cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away from. This interaction did not go unnoticed.

Athelstan paid to the conversation now, he pretended like he didn’t understand but he did. For Ragnar’s sake, because he trusted him for some bizarre reason, he kept his face neutral as he followed along.

The children were to be given to families within this, crime ring, was the best way Athelstan could put it, who didn’t have there own. And while it wasn’t slavery, it wasn’t ideal. He couldn’t even warn them, because that would show that he knew what they were saying. He just looked at the Children sadly.

Then he noticed the talk came to him, after he heard the money was to be split less than evenly. Ragnar pulled on his rope, and Athelstan moved from the children and followed where he was pulled. He then announced, “I will take no cut, but I will take him. As my own.”

Athelstan paled, and the man at the front of the table noticed. He hoped, Haraldson did not notice that he understand just what Ragnar meant. He was to be a slave. The children were saved from a fate he was now doomed to.

Heraldson looked Athelstan over, and Athelstan looked anywhere but the man, which included his daughter who now looked scared. What for Athelstan didn’t know, but he had a feeling it was for him.

He swallowed hard, as Haraldson gave him the okay. Ragnar pushed him to the children, and he got that it meant he was to tell them good bye. He looked incredibly sad as Ragnar allowed him to walk towards them. He knelt down and got on their level. “This man, is taking me. You all are going to families who have no children. I hope to see you again.”

Henry was crying now, Athelstan frowned, and gave him a watery smile, “It is God’s will. You will be okay, I will be okay.”

Alice looked at him, “Please don’t leave.”

Athelstan shook his head, “I have no choice.”

The twins cried, and even under his icy glare Thomas was mad, and he moved that glare at first to Ragnar, who looked amused, and then to the man at the head of the table, who looked decidedly less amused.

There was a tug on the rope, and Athelstan stood up clumsily because he had no use for his hands, and left following Ragnar out of the room then out of the building. “I do not wish you be your slave.”

“To late Mouse.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athelstan meets the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't so good, sorry.

Athelstan was glaring at Ragnar, the man had just told him he was a slave. It was absolutely crazy to think about it. It didn’t exactly register right away either. He wasn’t sure how to process the information, he wanted to ignore it. He knew what being a slave in today’s society meant, he may be what many would consider innocent, but he was not stupid.

“Come on Mouse.” He said pulling Athelstan along, and then abruptly stopping to turn around. He looked at Athelstan, who was now only slightly glaring at him.

“Why do you call me mouse?”

Ragnar grinned, it was like he was too proud and wanted everyone to know. “Because I found you in a church, you are a church mouse.”

Athelstan’s brow furrowed it only partially made sense. He then saw Ragnar fumble with something, he looked like he was pulling something out of his pocket, and then Athelstan saw a bag come to his head. He ducked, he was not going to be blindfolded, or hit on the head again.

Ragnar’s smile was still there but there was a slight anger to it now. This game would only be fun for him for a little while. “Now, Priest stand still. I can’t have you knowing where things are.”

Athelstan froze, and looked at Ragnar for what seemed like a minute when he was called a priest. Ragnar took the opportunity to place the bag over Athelstan’s head. Athelstan couldn’t see him, but he definitely knew Ragnar was grinning. “Come on Mouse.” Athelstan came and felt very much out of his element. He was still slightly dumbfounded by the priest comment, it seemed so out of blue, but he knew it wasn’t.

Eventually he ran into Ragnar again, and he took that as a sign that he was supposed to stop. He heard the distinct sound of a car door opening, and he was pushed in, though he suspected this was Ragnar’s way of helping him get into the car. Somehow he found himself in the seat properly, and looked the direction he thought Ragnar was in, and he heard the man laughing. He sighed, and attempted to grab the buckle, and only half way managed to get buckled up. The door closed, and then another open, “You’re in the front seat by the way.”

“I’m not a priest,” was the first thing he said after the engine started.

Ragnar looked at him, “What?”

“You called me a priest-- I’m not… that is something that we call those who lead the Catholic church. I’m not Catholic… I’m not even a person qualified to…”

He was cut off by Ragnar, “Shut up, Mouse.” Athelstan closed his mouth immediately not like Ragnar could see him. “I am taking you to my family. You will be a tutor and nanny for my children.”

Athelstan’s mouth opened, he turned his head, “Nanny? Tutor? I don’t even know where we are going, how can I be either?”

“You will manage, the kids we took liked you well enough.”

Athelstan could not believe the gall of this man though he surprised it didn’t completely surprise him either. “That’s not the same.”

“It is close enough.”

Athelstan didn’t say anything else the rest of the ride. But he did take notice when the engine was shut off. He heard doors opening, and then the bag was taken off his head, and the seatbelt that he eventually managed to get done, was taken off. He got out of the car with Ragnar’s help. They were in front of a moderate sized house, that was on the larger side of moderate.

He stood there looking at the house, til Ragnar pulled on the rope and he began to walk forward. He felt nervous and was scared, he wouldn’t say he was terrified, but he couldn’t probably call it that.

“I’m home!” Ragnar yelled without a care as soon as the door had closed behind Athelstan. He looked around, the entry was rather simple, stairs off to the side, and he heard footsteps. He saw a boy come down the stairs, he looked maybe around 18, possibly younger. He was tall, and was clearly Ragnar’s son. Athelstan ignored what his brain told him to call the young man.

A younger girl quickly followed, and she immediately spotted Athelstan. Coming from a different direction was a blond woman, with what looked like a steak knife in her hand. Athelstan immediately took a step backwards towards the door.

The woman pointed at him with the knife, “Who is that?” she asked, not at Athelstan, no her accusing glare was directed towards him.

“He is ours, he speaks our language.”

The woman now pointed the knife towards Ragnar, and Athelstan breathed out, and found the girl to be standing next to him looking at him with the most intrigue. So Ragnar seemed to pass down his lack of sense of personal space. “That is not what I asked,” she said her tone no less accusatory.

“His name is Athelstan. He is English, and was at the church,” Ragnar further explained seeming to have no mind of the woman’s piercing glare.

“And you stole him?” she asked, the tone was something Athelstan couldn’t decipher.

“Not necessarily, he is my cut.”

Lagertha gave him a look that made Ragnar turn back to Athelstan. Athelstan hoped that look was never turned towards him. Ragnar looked at his children, “He is your tutor, and should it arise he’ll be your nanny as well.”

“Father I am 18.”

“And I don’t care,” Ragnar said with a shrug. “Go no ask him things, he is smart.”

Athelstan looked at Bjorn, and then he looked back and Ragnar and Lagertha had disappeared. He looked at Bjorn who glared at him, he gulped, he was just an older Thomas that was all. He could do this. He then looked at Gyda, “How can you be our tutor?” she asked.

He looked between the two of them, “I graduated university with degrees in history, linguistics, and literature.”

“So nothing useful.” The boy said and went back upstairs making sure to stomp his feet along the way. Athelstan may have misjudged his age by a year or two.

“He’s always like that,” the girl said, “I’m Gyda, that was Bjorn, and our mother is probably scolding dad.” She began walking, “Come come, I should show you the house.” She grabbed Athelstan’s tied hands, and began leading him around the house, showing him everything.

+++++

He officially met Lagertha when she delegated him to chopping vegetables for dinner. She was very direct, and also informed him that they didn’t have a room made up for him, for he was a bit of surprise, so tonight he’d be sleeping on the couch in the living room. This was perfectly fine with Athelstan, he didn’t really want to say anything but yes, after all his life was now literally in these people’s hands.

Dinner was rather quiet, Gyda and Bjorn talked about their days at school, and for the most part Athelstan was able to pretend like this wasn’t a thing. They ignored him, and then they didn’t. Suddenly they were all looking at him, and Athelstan felt as if his stomach was going to fall out. He put his fork down, and pushed his plate forward, and looked at them.

“My husband says you were in a church, are you a priest?”

There was that word again, he shook his head, “No,” he didn’t feel like trying to explain the difference, “I work—ed with the church. I was saving money to be able to go seminary, to study to become one.”

Ragnar leaned in then, and Athelstan avoided his gaze. Then Ragnar told his kids, “Why don’t you two go do something your mother and I need to talk to Athelstan.”

Gyda got up, and Bjorn did with a huff. When they had gone, Athelstan felt like he was being scrutinized all over again. They were studying him and he wasn’t sure how comfortable that made him. Actually he was, it made him wish he was invisible.

+++++

At night Athelstan found himself on the couch one of the blankets that they had over the back covering him, using one of the throw pillows as his pillow. It was all fine. He wished that anyways. He knew it wasn’t. He knew this wasn’t ideal, and that he would likely never see England again. But it was more than that, he lost his friends, and the last person he saw as family. He didn’t even have money if he did go back, they stole his debit card and the little bit of cash he had in his wallet.

He wiped his face, hoping he wasn’t crying. And then he heard it, the moans. He groaned silently and covered his face with the blanket. And started to pray, it was all he could do after all. But then the moans and whatever other noises there were from Ragnar and Lagertha clearly stopped.

“Mouse,” it was a loud whisper from Ragnar himself.

Athelstan peaked his head over the edge of the blanket and was greeted with a very naked Ragnar, and Lagertha, he shut his eyes, “What?” he asked, refusing to open his eyes.

“Open your eyes, Mouse,” Ragnar practically demanded. Athelstan opened his eyes and tried to keep his focus on Ragnar’s face and nothing else. “We have a question.”

Athelstan spared a glance at Lagertha, making sure to see her face only, “Come and join us, priest,” she said.

Athelstan froze, those words, this moment. It was so much for him. He looked back at Ragnar his mouth hanging open a little, “I… I can’t.”

“Why not, my wife is pretty is she not?”

Athelstan nodded dumbly, “Yes I mean… she is. But I can’t lie with a woman?”

Ragnar turned, he looked at Lagertha and smiled, “I am not a woman.”

“I promised I’d remain pure til marriage.”

Lagertha was walking back to their room, clearly okay with his decision. No need to not respect him, Ragnar huffed, and stood up, “Fine then.”

He joined her, and she asked him in hushed whisper, “Are you sure this time?”

Ragnar nodded, “I feel it, we connected.” They went back to their bedroom.

Athelstan sunk into the couch, and covered himself with the blanket again. There words had rocked him, put him off kilter. He wasn’t sure how to even respond. It was like he had heard the words before. All of this was so familiar, it was worse than the dreams he had before all this even started. He wanted to just grab his head, and not think of it anymore. But it was all he could think of. He’d be dreaming of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I am very aware that I should have made Athelstan Catholic but I decided not to, because that is not my expertise. Much of his Church experience is based off my own. 
> 
>  
> 
> All characters will eventually be present, as this will follow the outline of the show taking a few key divergences.


End file.
